


Innocence

by ladydragon76



Series: Racers [1]
Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: blurr, character: fasttrack, genre: drama, series: racers, verse: idw, warning: au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Entry for tf_rare_pairing’s June Challenge, I chose the 25th – Innocence.  Fasttrack helps Blurr rid himself of some, though maybe not the way you would think.  Sure didn’t come out the way I thought it would, but I like this even better. ^_^</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** Canon? What canon? Making slag up.

**Title:** Innocence  
 **‘Verse:** IDW  
 **Series:** Racers  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Pairing:** Fasttrack/Blurr  
 **Summary:** Entry for tf_rare_pairing’s June Challenge, I chose the 25th – Innocence. Fasttrack helps Blurr rid himself of some, though maybe not the way you would think. Sure didn’t come out the way I thought it would, but I like this even better. ^_^  
 **Warning:** Canon? What canon? Making slag up.

 

**Innocence**

 

Fasttrack watched the rookie. Today’s champion.

_Blurr._

Fasttrack hadn’t run, so as was his habit, he’d watched from the Racers’ reserved box. The kid was something else. He really might even be faster than Fasttrack. Annoying thought that, and he could see how others in the maintenance bay frowned, sour looks on their faces as they watched the beaming young Racer.

Fasttrack liked being at the top too, but he also knew how the games worked here. That, more than anything else, set him striding toward the maintenance cradle, smiling broadly at Blurr, and saying loud enough to carry, “Slag me, kid, you’re fast! Damn nice race.”

Bright blue optics turned toward Fasttrack, a cocky half-smile, half-smirk on a pretty mouth. “Thanks. Next time you can watch from behind me on the track instead of being stuck in the stands.”

He burst out laughing. Oh, yeah. This one was a good choice. A good ally for keeping himself in the spotlight. Fasttrack observed as Blurr did this or that, obeying the techs’ orders while they checked him over and cleaned him up. Young, but most rookies were. Racers didn’t last long unless they were something special, and _remaining_ something special was the trick. A quick glance around showed Fasttrack that others were just realizing what he had already decided on.

_Too late slaggers._

“First race. Damn,” Fasttrack smiled. “I remember mine.” He chuckled. “I barely remember the after party though. But don’t worry, I won’t get you that drunk.”

“Drunk?” Blurr asked, looking at Fasttrack with adorable confusion. Primus. Had they kept the kid locked away? This was going to be more fun than he’d thought.

Fasttrack gave Blurr a pitying look. “You don’t know what drunk is?”

He received a flat glare in return. “Yes! I just didn’t expect to be getting drunk at all.” He glanced around. “Unless they’ve been hiding the high grade here somewhere.”

Well of _course_ there was high grade hidden around. Fasttrack wanted to pat the kid’s helm. Instead he shook his head, and chuckled lightly. “Nah. You won your first race, Blurr! We have to go _out_ and celebrate! Get a few cubes of the finest, get a few fans for some fun, and get it on in the VIP lounge!”

Blurr blinked.

He blinked. Primus! Fasttrack raised an optic ridge. “Unless that doesn’t sound fun to you?” he asked slowly. “You’re not untouched, are you?”

“What?! No!” Blurr protested. A little too strongly, Fasttrack thought. “No,” Blurr said more calmly, shaking his helm. “I just don’t get it. No one’s wanted anything to do with me, and now I win one race, and _you_ are offering me a night out?”

Fasttrack liked that inflection on ‘ _you_ ’. So the rookie had some idea of the interpersonal status the Racers all jockeyed with one another for, and that Fasttrack was one of the upper echelon. Good. And since he was, and he could see Blurr’s potential, he had something of a responsibility, didn’t he? If Blurr was going to be a star, then he needed to act like one.

Fasttrack gave a careless shrug. “You hadn’t won a race yet.”

Explanation enough it seemed, because Blurr gave him a bit of a grin. “Ok. So it’s a night of Corrupt the Rookie, huh? Not going to be _that_ easy for you.”

Fasttrack flashed his own grin back, full of teasing confidence. “So completely cratered it is! Let’s go.”

~ | ~

The bass boomed, the music deliciously loud, thrumming through his body the moment they swept through the doors. Fasttrack kept his arm slung over Blurr’s shoulder, partly so no one would try to separate them yet, and partly so he could coach the kid. He had looked shocked -happy, but shocked- at the screaming fans outside.

“Take it as your due, Blurr. You earned it,” he murmured against the pretty wing flare of Blurr’s helm. In fact, everything was pretty about the mech, and Fasttrack hadn’t even started drinking yet. This really was a good idea.

“You’ve gone from upstart rookie, to rising star in the space of a single day. Best way to get to the top is to act like you belong there, because guess what?” Fasttrack paused, licking lightly along the sweeping wing. “You _do_ belong there,” he purred.

A little shiver rippled through Blurr’s frame, and Fasttrack grinned, watching those bright, happy optics shade just a bit darker. “Let me show you something.”

He led them through the crowd, nodding, and letting the mechs that reached for him clasp his hand momentarily, smiling, shouting back greetings. Blurr learned quickly, and though he kept one arm tightly looped around Fasttrack’s waist, he was soon mimicking the shouted greetings, thanking mechs for their congratulations, and fending off offers for all sorts of drinks.

Fasttrack kept them moving too quickly to get bogged down, and finally made it to the VIP lift. Blurr sagged against him, snickering. “Holy Primus! Is it always like that?”

“Hah! That’s just the beginning.”

He led them out of the lift as the doors slid open, and gestured with an expansive sweep if his arm. “ _This_ is where the real fun is. The high grade is the best. The treats are only the finest, and…” he trailed off, spotting the perfect prey for the evening. “And most nights after a big race, you’ll find Towerlings slumming it in the hopes of meeting you.” He stepped behind Blurr, hands on the mech’s shoulders so he could turn him to look.

Four little princelings sat, aloof and feigning boredom, plating delicate and fine, but not as light or perfectly aerodynamic as a Racer’s. “They are here tonight for _you_ , Blurr. You’re the winner, and even those noble darlings want you so bad, they’ve left their glittering Towers, and servants, and decadent life just in the _hope_ of seeing you.”

“You’re kidding,” Blurr said, voice flat, mouth pressed into a thin, angry line as he turned. “You’re making this up as some prank. Like someone did a few days ago with my polish.”

Fasttrack cocked his helm to the side. Someone had- Well, of course they had, but that was different. Rookies got hazed. “You _won_ ,” he said firmly. “You began that race one mech, and you finished it as _The Blurr_. That’s why we’re here. Don’t you get it? The world, and every mech in it, is _yours_ now. That’s what I’m trying to show you.”

He tugged Blurr off to the side, but where they could still see the Towerlings at the end of the bar. “Look at them,” Fasttrack said, turning Blurr, and wrapping his arms around his waist. “They’re at the bar _waiting_. If they were just here for the kick of defying their own kind and going to a commoners’ club, they’d already be in a lounge of their own. They’re waiting for _you_.”

Blurr made some fussy sound of disagreement, and Fasttrack heaved a sigh. “Will you at least let me prove it to you?”

Blurr leaned back into him a little, and said, “All right. Prove it to me. What do we do?”

Fasttrack grinned, catching Blurr’s chin and pulling his face around to steal a quick kiss. “Keep only one thing in mind. You’re better than them, and it’s their slagging _honor_ to be _allowed_ to pleasure you tonight.” He chuckled as Blurr’s optics widened. “Sure you’re not untouched? Because I can break you in, in the lounge first, and then we can come get the princelings afterwards if you prefer?”

That flat glare returned. “I’m _not_ untouched.”

“Ok, don’t get offended. Just teasing you.” Fasttrack stole another kiss just because he could. “You’re too gorgeous to really believe it anyways.” With Blurr looking somewhat mollified, Fasttrack winked, and said, “Proof. I’m going to go over. You watch them. They might show some interest, but I’ll bet they look around after I greet them, searching for you. Come on over when they do. Ok?”

“Ok,” Blurr nodded, still looking a little dubious. That was fine. Fasttrack had been a bit overwhelmed and surprised by the change his first night too.

He strode up to the bar, dividing the Towerlings little group, and signaled the bartender. “Hey, Flash!” he called out as the bartender smiled, and reached out to clasp his hand. “Wouldja send a decanter up to my lounge?”

“Sure. Just the one?”

“For now. Probably going prowling once things pick up for the night.” Fasttrack could practically feel the Towerlings twitching to either side of him.

Flash nodded. “I’ll have it up to you in just a minute, Fasttrack.” Primus bless awesome bartenders that got a kick out of watching him play his game with the nobles. And all it cost him was the occasional finish line seat or two so Flash could impress his own current lover.

He turned, smiled at the four mechs all pretending they weren’t just inspecting him from top to bottom. “Excuse me,” he said, and moved to leave. He didn’t even get two steps.

“Excuse us,” one of them said. “Fasttrack? You are one of the champion Racers, are you not?”

Fasttrack smirked inwardly, and turned. He caught a quick glimpse of Blurr watching. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“And you’re here all alone?” another asked, tone coy.

Fasttrack never bothered to learn their names, it was something of a rule. The first was golden, the second a fine brushed silver, the other two were blue and a pale green. He smiled. They would do for the night. “Actually no.”

Four sets of optics immediately swept around, and Blurr had taken his cue. He reached Fasttrack’s side, and did a damn fine job of ignoring the Towerlings. “Sorry,” he grinned. “Got a little hung up back there.”

“No problem. Gotta give the fans a chance to say hello. I was just doing that myself.” Fasttrack turned back to the Towerlings. “Gentlemechs, my friend, Blurr.”

“No introduction necessary,” said green, smoothly offering his hand to Blurr. “Quite an amazing race today, Blurr.”

“Indeed,” agreed silver, hungry optics raking over Blurr’s frame.

Fasttrack could have laughed. Did they really think they were so irresistible? “Well, if you’ll all excuse us? Blurr, the high grade should be delivered by now. Let’s go get you off your feet a while.”

Blurr was turning away, having to pull before green relinquished his hand, and Fasttrack could have laughed. “What do you say,” he murmured as they headed for the stairs. “Let them twist, or invite them up now?”

Blurr’s optics flashed, that smirky smile curving his lips as he kept walking. “Let them twist.”

Fasttrack smiled. That had been remarkably easy, and he felt a keen note of pride in watching Blurr slough off that naiveté, that innocence, and embrace who he was now. He hooked his arm around his fellow Racer’s waist, and teased his fingers over the smooth piping in Blurr’s side, knowing the Towerlings were watching them walk up the stairs, knowing what was coming next, and that they weren’t good enough to have it.

No one was.

~ | ~

**([Table of Contents](http://ladydragon76.livejournal.com/6214.html) )**


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